Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

At dawn, the party was over. Strangers went to fuck in bedrooms with bedsheets nailed over the windows; friends went for pancakes.

Everyone who had been to this party before had remembered to bring their sunglasses. It’s not a party if you don’t need sunglasses to leave. Spit on your hand and slick your hair down and try to look like you’re going to work.

There are always fucking joggers.

Katy’s muscles were baggy and she could taste her stomach. Her lighter was someplace and she wanted a banana. The sun was up; it didn’t seem to care about the previous night.

Katy Perry had met God at a party, and now she needed to take a shit and wash her face.

At dawn, the party was over and a girl sat on the curb waiting for her ride.